Day 6, I Don't Like Ticks
Words written today: 4,284
Pop Tarts eaten: 1, or rather 1 package so that's really 2
Visits to the library to date: 2
Bike rides taken into town without injury: 2
Turns out that neither Chap nor I really love the outdoors. This morning, when Chap woke me up at 4:48, daylight was breaking and we went outside, and I heard this strange stomping in the bushes; had an eerie sensation that several sets of eyes were on us, most likely deer hidden in the woods. I am afraid that Chap is going to spy some irresistible form of wild life and race after it, consequently being swallowed up by the trees and underbrush. On the way back inside, I felt something scrambling across my skin and picked at live tick from my stomach, removed it swiftly, without thought, like someone taking out an arrow. You're supposed to drown them in rubbing alcohol, but none was within sight, so I flushed it down the toilet where it can live happily in the sewer system for the rest of its life cycle. We're surrounded by woods and trees, and the incessant calling of birds, which to some meet seem magical, but to me, seems freaky. A murder of crows--the phrase for the day that I will try to work into my story tomorrow.
LaRuca and I took bicycles into town, not a bad ride, though the hill to the library is the most strenuous, and the town is still filled with tourists, though not quite as bad as this weekend. We got coffee at the Left Foot or whatever it's called. While we were there, the barista called out a coffee order for Don Duffy. I told LaRuca to use the same name, so when she ordered, she said the name was Aimee Duffy. I had to walk away because I got hysterical. In the end, they only called my first name, so we never did get to talk to Don Duffy.
Nothing too weird happened in the writing today--no new characters appeared, and I wrote this one grizzly scene about a nightmare where the main character thinks she's having tea with a cadaver from the week before who keeps filling the tea cup with blood from her stomach. I do not know where that image came from but Ray Bradbury has this advice in the Zen in Writing that you should start your day with a list of words that are moving around in your brain and go from there. Tea cup was in mine head and then it got onto the page.
Pop Tarts eaten: 1, or rather 1 package so that's really 2
Visits to the library to date: 2
Bike rides taken into town without injury: 2
Turns out that neither Chap nor I really love the outdoors. This morning, when Chap woke me up at 4:48, daylight was breaking and we went outside, and I heard this strange stomping in the bushes; had an eerie sensation that several sets of eyes were on us, most likely deer hidden in the woods. I am afraid that Chap is going to spy some irresistible form of wild life and race after it, consequently being swallowed up by the trees and underbrush. On the way back inside, I felt something scrambling across my skin and picked at live tick from my stomach, removed it swiftly, without thought, like someone taking out an arrow. You're supposed to drown them in rubbing alcohol, but none was within sight, so I flushed it down the toilet where it can live happily in the sewer system for the rest of its life cycle. We're surrounded by woods and trees, and the incessant calling of birds, which to some meet seem magical, but to me, seems freaky. A murder of crows--the phrase for the day that I will try to work into my story tomorrow.
LaRuca and I took bicycles into town, not a bad ride, though the hill to the library is the most strenuous, and the town is still filled with tourists, though not quite as bad as this weekend. We got coffee at the Left Foot or whatever it's called. While we were there, the barista called out a coffee order for Don Duffy. I told LaRuca to use the same name, so when she ordered, she said the name was Aimee Duffy. I had to walk away because I got hysterical. In the end, they only called my first name, so we never did get to talk to Don Duffy.
Nothing too weird happened in the writing today--no new characters appeared, and I wrote this one grizzly scene about a nightmare where the main character thinks she's having tea with a cadaver from the week before who keeps filling the tea cup with blood from her stomach. I do not know where that image came from but Ray Bradbury has this advice in the Zen in Writing that you should start your day with a list of words that are moving around in your brain and go from there. Tea cup was in mine head and then it got onto the page.
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| This is Chap on my bed, still concerned about the turn his life has taken. |
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